


Anyone is Capable of Anything

by KoreArabin



Category: Happy Valley (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, F/M, Gags, Humiliation, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Prostate Massage, non-consensual anal sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28427955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoreArabin/pseuds/KoreArabin
Summary: John hasn't murdered Vicky, so she's come back for a second round of revenge.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Anyone is Capable of Anything

This time, John, I've decided it'll not just be dirty pictures I'll take of you. This time, I want something better to remember you by, and to punish you with. Throughout our two year relationship, you've been something of a passive partner - not that I dislike that, _per se_. Ooh, get me with the Latin. I also do a mean moussaka. I've always been a strong, driven woman, if a little unhinged and needy at the same time. I like a strong man, but I also like one who has to take being told what to do.

So, this time, I've not just dressed you up in the skimpy bra and panties, and the sheer black hold-ups. I've also cuffed your wrists together tightly behind your back, and tied your ankles to the bedframe. Your legs are spread wide apart and the hotel circular pillow (it's called a bolster, isn't it?) is under your tummy, holding your arse up high in the air for me to work on.

I'm sorry, John. I would so prefer to give you pleasure, as I did during our relationship. But you have decided that what we discussed isn't, after all, what you want. So you have reaped something different.

The first implement I use is a simple gag. I say simple - it is - it's just fucking massive. A ball gag almost the size of - what? - a cricket ball? It's shoved - and I mean _shoved_ \- into your mouth and buckled as tightly as it can be behind your head. You start to drool virtually immediately. I hope it hurts.

Now, what next? The strap-on or the prostate massager? I smile to myself as I buckle the former around my slim hips. I'm not nasty enough to shove it up you completely dry - I've bought a little bottle of lube with me, but I want you to feel it. I drizzle a little more of the silky gel on to your twitching pucker, wondering whether you've ever had anything up there before. During our time together, you were very much a lover of the most vanilla kind. Not that I am complaining - you were always caring and considerate, if rather unadventurous. IIRC, that first time I gave you a blow job, you practically came on the spot.

Your moan as I begin to push the dildo into your arse goes straight to my clit. I rather lose control for a couple of seconds then - it feels just so good to rub myself against the soft ridge inside the strap on and listen to your moans as you struggle to throw me off. But the sedative is still in your system, and your movement is clumsy and uncoordinated. So I concentrate on my own pleasure, just as much as ensuring you get a reaming you won't be forgetting in a hurry. I come embarrassingly quickly, shuddering and collapsing heavily on to you. You actually try to grab one of my breasts with your cuffed hands, you bastard, and so for that I pull your arse cheeks apart and give you a series of deep, hard thrusts that have you struggling and groaning.

I leave the dildo buried in your arse when I un-strap it and nip to the bathroom to tidy myself up.

When I return to the bedroom I'm gratified to see that I've managed to make you cry. Your eyes are red and puffy and, if looks could kill, I'd be instantly dead on the hideous hotel carpet. I remove the dildo from your arse, which I have to say now rather matches your eyes. The prostate massager slides in easily, and although it's somewhat difficult to slip the harness under you (a little too much of that middle-age spread around your tummy and bum there, John) it's soon buckled securely into place. Then, I just have to slide your unsurprisingly soft cock through the rubber cock ring, and press the button to spring the massager into life. 

Lastly, I make sure that the phone I've bought especially for this rendezvous is set up to record. To record you, John, a pretty average, slightly balding, slightly paunchy middle-aged man, dressed in stockings, bra and panties, moaning and drooling around your gag as your buttocks hump and grind, flexing around the massager buzzing away in your arse, and the tip of your rapidly thickening cock begins to leave a dark stain on the hotel bed sheet.

And the pièce de résistance? A receipt, one which I've carefully doctored so that only the date, the amount, and the subject can be clearly made out. I show it to you before zooming in on it with the phone. "Domination - discrete personal service." 

I replace the phone to film you, and blow you a little kiss. You're straining hard to come, I can see that, but that tight cock ring is going to prevent any chance of that happening. "Bye, sweetheart. I'll be back in what - an hour? - and we can discuss how much you're going to be paying me each week. Oh, and I may fancy another ride on that rather luxuriant arse of yours, so brace yourself, darling." 

As I close the door, I hear another series of smothered moans and what sounds very much like a sob.


End file.
